


why you always lyin, homg

by Black, smooshkin



Series: KingSlayer [4]
Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: Angry Adam yells at his Father, Everybody Lies Adam, M/M, Okay yeah you too ya wierdo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 23:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11588175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black/pseuds/Black, https://archiveofourown.org/users/smooshkin/pseuds/smooshkin
Summary: Adam comes home to find David in his apartment and finally confronts him.





	why you always lyin, homg

**Author's Note:**

> This was a good fuckin RP.  
> Lemme tell you, this is the confrontation I've been craving for yeeeears between these two. Smooshkin did not disappoint, not at all. I loved writing this so much with him so I hope you enjoy reading it.
> 
> Title: [You already know it and if u dont where have you been](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WcWM_1hBu_c)

= * =

 

Adam was neck deep in this. Sarif had sent him to China to track down some lead and- well, he would have been lying if he'd said he didn't suspect this rabbit hole to go a little deeper than they all thought.   
  
It was spiraling a  _ lot _ deeper.   
  
Pritchard had told him he'd lost contact hours ago... David was tired. He had turned in his seat, elbow sliding across the desk as a hand dragged down his face. Anxiety.   
  
The world didn't stop while Adam hunted down answers and soon enough, it had reached another boiling point while he was away. Taggart continued to be an iron rut in his side and looking away from him for more than a few hours (or so it seemed) let him cover more ground in Sarif's territory.   
  
He curled his nails into the desk- wishing he had a lion's claws to tear up the finish. Maybe that would have been more satisfying to his rage.   
  
He felt, every so often, like he was fighting blind. Every time he looked back at the game, there was some new piece on the board- placed by illusory hands and- God, what was real?    
  
Adam- Could he trust him to--?    
  
I need you with me on this, Adam.   
  
Thank god- Malik had reported back that they were leaving Montreal. What did he find there?   
  
Jesus, Adam.   
  
Meanwhile there were riots outside his doors. His people were kept from leaving- for their own safety. Office chatter was a cacophony of rumour and fear and-- There was no end to this.   
  
Someone was giving him the cheshire grin from some shadowy corner, he knew it, but who and where?    
  
He knew why.

Adam could help. He always could. David was..Eager. To see him again. Finally get him in the same room again so he could feel like at least his grip wasn't slipping on Adam too.   
  
Are you with me, Adam? You're on my side, right?   
  
Beset from all sides, he would be remiss if he didn't consider Adam's... priorities shifting. Away from his. Away from him.   
  
He swallowed when he looked at the top of his desk. Some memory washing over his senses and he feels. Hot.   
  
He tells Malik where to drop their boy off.   
  
But he can't keep himself from the window when he's there, in Adam's space again. Looking out at the golden fractured skyline and- it's rebelled against him. Detroit always loved him and all it took was some bullshit from the tongue of a liar to set her to claw at his haunches, trying to bring him down. But he wouldn't run.   
  
And Adam- he felt a wash of relief in seeing his familiar form near the door until... That note of dissent. Rebellion. Oh, Adam. Not you too...

He'd come to square with him. Threateningly close. And Sarif stayed put. How... How dare Adam accuse him of sabotaging Washington! He always says so...    
  
But he needs him. Doesn't want to brush the fur against the grain until Taggart is silenced. Shut up. Quieted. Of course he didn't want to  _ kill _ him. Don't lie to yourself, David. You wouldn't shed a damn tear.   
  
And he questions him again. Why would they kidnap Megan's team? Damnit Adam!   
  
"I already told you. Megan found a way to make augmentation safer- for  _ all _ of us. So we can all become like you."   
  
Adam tone whispers a mistake to him. Like me. Yeah. Like you- Christ. He...   
  
David feels guilty for a moment. It was...abstract. But insensitive. Adam's worth was beyond his DNA, but- recent events and the nature of their work, well-- It sure pulled it into focus a lot. Maybe he felt. Objectified.   
  
"Like- You are." Is that...? Better? "More than human." Sarif wasn't quite sure how to express his value in more ways than one at a time and- Godamnit Adam! There's work to do.

 

= * =

 

Eliza,    
Oh, Eliza.    
  
Adam hates that she’s still on his mind.    
Hates that fact that he’s let her words worm and worm and bury under his skin. festering. festering. Malik says something about dropping him off, Adam makes some bitter quip about needing a shower. She laughs. He’s serious. Everybody lies.  _ Everybody _ , lies.   
  
He considers for a moment she could have been lying.   
muddled. muddy. she’s an AI -   
  
Adam - when did things get this bad? Malik knows that David will be waiting there when he gets back to the apartment and Adam can’t - Adam isn’t exactly surprised to open up his door and find the man perched at  _ his _ window, over Detroit. Over his city, her claws needled and teeth seeking meat meat meat    
  
meeting him here somehow only irritated him more. Further drove the barb into his side and twisted it. twisted it and punctuated and he pours himself a glass of liquor. hestaties. pushes the other cup he had set out aside. There’s something animalistic, bubbling. swelling. like Detroit as her people - he thinks he may be one of them. that maybe he should be out there. scattering. anger. angry. giving birth to the fire in his chest, pushing. pulling. balled up and sinking firm, heavy. sick. he’s sick. the whiskey doesn’t do much but pours himself another glass to deal with  _ this _ .   
  
How many other people are keeping things from him.    
Hm.    
  
And just when he thinks David can’t dig the hole any deeper, he does. he slams his shovel straight into the ground and his augs whirr as he clenches his fists and rolls his wrists. He glances out to Detroit, to her wounded pride. her sobbing riots. screaming, splitting at the seams.

He looks into Sarif’s face and feels the strings wrap, tighten.   
The lens flicker up.   
  
“Like me?” He says after a moment, “Like  _ me _ ?”   
  
He doesn’t feel so special anymore. Sarif’s save isn’t much of a save, more of a - he doesn’t even know if he can swallow that. “Excuse me for wondering  _ boss _ , but are you sure you have nothing to do with the rumors of super soldiers?”    
  
and then another, very biting pause, “ _ Like me _ ?”    
  
Adam eyes the outlines the bumps and rolls of his augs of the black the typhoon the blades and for a moment he’s taken back to his apartment isolation; of feeling so alone in here. so cornered by a creature crafted out of insecurities and self loathing.   
  
“What else aren’t you telling me?” His voice is low and threateningly steady, Adam snatches up his glass just a little too smooth, a little too clean.    
  
David, there’s something dark in his eyes.   
A warning.   
Tread lightly because   
  
Shh, a ghost lives here now - and you’ve reanimated his dying corpse. Phantasmagoria - sloughing fur and honeyed teeth; his anger is beyond us, now. The control is of your own.

 

= * =

 

Sarif's nose wrinkles and he quickly whips his attention away the moment Adam's teeth serrate. Too close.   
  
He quickly reaches up to rub his mouth with the back of his hand, buying himself a precious moment of time. He makes a noise in the back of his throat.   
  
He glances at Adam from his peripherals and almost seems to growl. A warning.    
  
His hands return to his hips and he's turning back to face him. Now he couldn't ignore it. He wasn't taking no for an answer and he wasn't moving on.   
  
"Adam." He hisses sternly. "I'm not kidding, son."    
  
Don't go there, Adam.   
  
"It's total heresy- now forgive me for bein' insensitive but we need that research! Don't you see how important this is!"   
  
'What else aren't you telling me?'   
  
I'm losing him.   
  
Sarif felt a well of panic spin a rat's nest of wire in his chest. He was so-- frustrated. No, don't lie to yourself, David. You're furious.   
  
"What? Adam! What do you take me for? Nothing! There's nothing going on here and you're-- You're missing the point!"    
  
He needs Adam to do as he says. Needs to damage control.   
  
David, you need to calm down.    
  
He takes a breath and looks down at the floor between them. The air is electric and even giving himself a moment to un-fray his nerves doesn't quite seem to work.    
  
This. Frustrates him. (Infuriates him.) He reaches up to rub the bridge of his nose and he's turning away. Show Adam he's at peace when he's not. Show him his back. Trust him like he doesn't trust you.   
  
He's back in the den and runs a hand over his own hair to smooth it.   
  
"God- Adam. Of all people- I should think  _ you'd _ be on my side here."   
  
Familiar territory. Turn it around. Turn it on him. Refocus, refocus.

 

= * =  
  


there’s a cold, cold fury in Adam’s gut.  
calm down, Jensen.   
calm down, Jensen.  
You’re not a machine, you can still feel.  
  
How can I when everything is so cold?  
  
his lips crease into a neat frown as Sarif tries to turn his words, tries to gift them teeth. No, no not this time. Adam catches the glance of his eyes - he hears a growl. he returns the same, twice as loud. He sits stiff in his chair, sliding down in the slightest. He tips the whiskey to his lips and his eyes shine predatory in the low light.   
  
“You think I am?”   
  
A king upon his screaming city - he wonders how long she’ll take to ruin herself. ruin him. wonders how long until she seeps into the skeleton she had been before Sarif’s reign.   
  
How did it come to this?  
  
Tell me the truth, Sarif.   
  
“Do you see how important it is that _i_ know the truth?” he removes himself from his throne, “sorry, I’m being selfish for a moment.”   
  
He curls around side of him and forces David to meet his eyes - the air crackles with tension and Adam is tempted to snap his teeth and chew through it. draw blood. bone and body part and the slide into his cold, cold belly.   
  
That only grows colder with the purposely thorned comment.   
Discolored red.

“I don’t even know if  _ you’ve _ been on my side,” Adam curls his claws, tips of them digging into his palms, “You just proved to me that you’re hiding something by avoiding all my concerns - Eliza is right. What things are you hiding from  _ me _ , Sarif?”   
  
He pauses, reaching up to comb his fingers over the shiny black polycarbonate plating of his right arm. mulling. thinking. eyes lidded and rolling with a silent fury.    
  
“You augged me far past the point that I ever needed to be,” calm, calm, wrapped with venom, laced with accusation, “You stripped me, and then left me in an apartment alone to deal with all the limbs you’d stolen from me.”    
  
Adam looms, mouth open and teeth bared in some hell-houndish snap. jaw chattering as he manages to close it. manages to stave the anger off for that moment.    
  
David, can you hear me?   
It’s time.

 

= * =

 

Sarif seems to visibly bristle when Adam stood, putting their eyes level. He could almost feel his fingers slipping from some phantasmagorical precipice and he's--    
  
Not falling. He turns to give Adam a look- meet him as he stalks around to his front. A familiar look. Shards boring into the enemy.    
  
'if  _ you've _ been on my side,'   
  
"How can you  _ say _ that, Adam." He rumbles, low and smooth. Molasses. Though he's close to shaking himself apart with every little needle plucking at his skin.   
  
He finds himself glaring and- his eyes catch the little- movement- of Adam's arms. His expression softens just a fraction. He's not your enemy, David. Don't make him your enemy.    
  
Don't. You need him.   
  
But Adam's eyes are sharp like fucking daggers and David raises his chin defiantly when they exchange fixated stares.   
  
And then- Adam speaks. David turns away again, feeling his blood run cold. Suddenly very cold. "How did you--?"   
  
He knew now where this was going. Terrified up until this point that Adam might... Ask. How'd he find out? Who told him?   
  
He quickly rubs the back of his neck, brings it around to the front and squeezes his own chin.   
  
"Jesus, Adam-- I..." His brows knit together and he's-- Not sure. Foreign.   
  
"You're making me sound like some kind of villain." He says, clearly insecure. Avoiding. Running.    
  
"Who told you about that?"  He asks quietly to the grey and dusty air. It was genuine curiosity, but even he was aware of himself skirting the point. Buying time.

 

= * =

 

Adam can see David tense as he stands.   
Good -    
Calm down Adam.   
No,   
  
The time for calm was long ago.    
  
Adam’s eyes are seaglass - rolled beautiful by the churning waters. colorful and bright; compressed and pretty by the hardships endured by the angered ocean. the storms they’ve weathered.    
  
They’re haunting, even in the dark apartment. Lit only by his city’s fires. her rebellion. He could not lay claim to her actions, but he could mourn her peace. Just as he was mourning his own.   
  
It was all too good to be true, Adam.    
We had talked about this outcome, remember?    
  
“How can  _ you _ look me in the eyes and tell me you care about me, and then pull  _ this _ ,” a little more personal now, head tilting into a quiet hiss, “this is bullshit,  _ Boss _ .” he hopes the title hooks into his skin. pulls. that he can feel his molten distrust.    
  
He straightens up at the recognition in Sarif’s face and ah - yeah. suspicion confirmed. He suddenly feels far dirtier - that shower would be nice right about now. Adam thinks of all the skin that didn’t need to be sacrificed. violated. cleaved off and just tossed aside and made way to shiny black polycarbonate caresses and alloy artistry. He hates it, hates it.    
  
With no purpose presented - he grows angrier.    
Even more so when he sees and hears the flash of genuine before he’s back to being defensive. Adam glances around at the dark of his apartment and catches the glint of his pocket watches. Hm. Grounding, grounding.    
  
A little more here - he circles again.    
  
“David, I’m simply asking questions in order to clear a concern up,” Adam is polite in his counterarguments, curt. sharp. his lips crinkle his snout in a momentary snarl as he settles - “You’re the one making yourself look like a villain by avoiding the conversation.”   
  
He steps forward, further into David’s territory, “You’ve  _ not _ been honest with me.”

 

= * =

 

Oh, Sarif felt it.    
  
He turns around to look at Adam with eyes a little wide. Stunned. His arms drop to his sides with no purpose and it's clear he's at a loss.    
  
"Adam- Hang on-... Don't--...Do that." He rumbles a little quieter.    
  
Don't. His shoulders drop and he's... Foreign here.   
  
And he feels it again. Adam circles and he paces away, trying to keep himself steady, but his awareness is a battleground. Adam is it's only other occupant and he's trying to. Meet him in the center without blood.   
  
Trying to flank him- not to gouge him, but to approach this from some direction he's familiar. But this was all unfamiliar. Adam's territory. The mist-shrouded path.   
  
Adam delivers a curt response and he finds it only more disturbing.    
  
He's faking a calm, extending his fingers to roll over one of the baseballs resting on a box. Without thinking, he's curling them around it and-- the familiar.    
  
"I'm not avoiding!" He retorts.    
  
"That's just... That's an intense line of questioning son, I--"    
  
He can face him again, with something to protect his nerve, and he does.    
  
"But I swear- I'm not lyin' to ya! What do you want me to say? That- yeah? I-- So I went a little above and beyond what would keep you breathin'?"   
  
He frowns, almost cradling the damn ball between them.   
  
"Look, I'm sorry you-- I wasn't intentionally keeping that away from you..."    
  
His eyes are perhaps a little beseeching. But they flicker quickly to the ground in the distance. He swallows.    
  
"I do care about you, Adam."

 

= * =

 

“Don’t do what, Boss?” Adam rumbles, faux content. his guts are still ice - he wonders if Sarif had replaced those too. What hadn’t been stolen from him? Hands on him, pain. pain. electric and spine shaking. he nearly remembers it - muzzy. fuzzy. arching off a table with no arms to support him no claws to   
  
he watches as Sarif swipes the baseball but makes no move to reclaim what’s his. Sarif rolls it - could he call it nervously?- in his palms and he lets him have it. lets him have that comfort.    
  
Maybe when it’s thieved away, he’d understand Adam’s struggle. Understand what it feels like to be stripped of everything stable, ground to stand on. wobbling legs and shaky heels. reddened ports and he remembers shattering the mirror. remembers curling his fingers over the shards and pulls back. dismantling. dismantling. wishing his fingers could bleed. washes he could smear red across the white ceramic.   
  
To feel human.   
Again.   
  
Like me.   
More than human.   
  
He could almost laugh. bitter.    
“If you aren’t avoiding, then why won’t you just tell me the truth?” He cuts the circling and steps forward, arms curling with the motion of a reach - but it falls abrupt. So he just stalks, head lowered and eyes glittering fogged, glassy.    
  
David cradles the ball near lovingly - or maybe that’s just his own longing. he hates this. hates this. he wants to be back and curling under those fingers, wants to know that they mean him no harm. that they won’t    
  
strip him of anymore flesh. that barbed tongue won’t keep licking him raw, won’t keep shredding anything human left. He’s angry all over again, a rolling wash of emotion. cold. and then a brief ripple of heat - mechanical again.    
  
“If you care about me, then tell me the truth,” He breaks a little, his hiss a near plead. quiet. quiet. sacred and hushed. He motions to his legs aggressively, “this is more than a little, Boss.”

Please, tell me. Be honest with me.    
Please.   
Please, tell me you’re better than the rest of them.    
I trusted you.   
  
He won’t ask again.

 

= * =

 

"Adam-" He interjects quietly, nearly under his breath. Shhh. Don't give me that tone. Please.   
  
He curls his fingers around the ball- strokes it almost like it might of been a small, furry animal.   
  
He sighs heavily through his nose. "Because I don't know what you want to hear, Adam." He admits.   
  
And then his brows raise as something clicks.    
  
Damnit, David. He doesn't wanna hear anything but the reality.   
  
The truth.   
  
Fuck. Don't lie to yourself, David. You knew that all along, didn't you.   
  
Adam's a little quieter now and he feels-- Like maybe he can just tell him. Admit it.   
  
He looks back up and frowns.    
  
"Yeah-... Yeah it is.. You're right." He turns his body a little, almost- ashamed.   
  
"Adam- I.. Listen. Don't hate me, son. Please."    
  
And he squeezes the ball, turning his back to him so he might not have to look at him. Get his thoughts in order.   
  
"When I found out about-- you. Megan's research, I-- A whole world just opened up!" He gestures at the air, baseball in one hand.   
  
"It was like-- the holy grail. You--! You were the godamned jewel of the crown that was to be..." He pauses, thoughtful. "The master work of human evolution!"

He turns back around to look at him. Over him. He looks him down and up. Swallows.    
  
He feels something fray under his ears and he almost shivers.    
  
"I saw the chance-- And-" He's looking around the room, searching the gloom for the right words.   
  
"God, Adam... Haven't you ever had a dream? And I don't mean like-.. Like a goal, but- A dream. Something so magnificent you'd give anything to see it with your own eyes?"    
  
He breathes, brow hard and he's... His eyes settle on Adam's hands. "I wanted to see it. Because part of me just- some part of me didn't think it was possible but-- Christ, Adam! Here you are and you're..."   
  
He doesn't look at the baseball as he sets it down somewhere nearby.    
  
"You're the real deal. I can look at you and-- You're perfect." He finds himself reaching for Adam's hand this time.   
  
"You're the dream."

 

= * =

 

Sarif’s quiet utter of his name does little to calm him.   
  
His eyes are slatted and sharp; he moves as David moves. A small jerk, but he’s not going to let him leave without some sort of answer. His teeth feel too big for his mouth - he wants to bare them.    
  
Let me show him I can bite too.   
You never removed the teeth, Boss.   
  
He fixates on the way that Sarif holds it. strokes him. fingers fluid and curling. thoughtful. he remembers how they touched his augs - almost exactly like that. it can feel the phantom remarks; he hates this. he  _ hates _ this.    
  
Adam narrows his eyes. Doesn’t know what he wants to hear?  _ Doesn’t _ know? Had he not just repeated himself three or four times? He curls his lips back to gnash those teeth but. startles. just slightly at.    
  
You’re right.    
  
His eyes fall to his own legs, linger there for a moment. they lift to look to him again. Adam doesn’t think he’s ever seen David Sarif look so genuinely ashamed before. His shoulders slack, though he remains tense. on edge. Don’t make me feel like an idiot for trusting you again, please. a silent plead. shifting in his eyes. his tired eyes.    
  
‘ _ Don’t hate me, son. _ ’    
  
Hate is far beyond him.   
Disappointment is the flavor of the week, now.    
  
Though he doesn’t remark it aloud.    
  
Adam reserves hate for specific things, people: David Sarif is not one of them.

He listens. He listens hard, for a moment. Feels the heat bubble up on him at the confession, the advantage he found in Adam’s DNA. The advantage he took of a dying man that couldn’t agree, consent. But that’s not even what chews at him the most.    
  
‘ _ Haven’t you ever had a dream? _ ’   
  
His eyes soften, a little. he tilts his head and mirrors David, his eyes falling to look at the baseball clutched in his hands. swelling. swelling. his chest swells hot and cold and the hard lines in his face they   
  
David sets the baseball down with no hesitation, removes the barrier between them and it. surprises him. He’s never seen him put it down so willingly, so freely. smoothly. at ease. Adam feels the joints of his claws ease; he drags his own eyes back to stare to them as he extends each digit. flexes them.    
  
You’re perfect.   
...Am I?   
  
He doesn’t pull away, he lets Sarif touch his hands.    
Touch him.   
  
You’re the dream.    
  
A feverish one. Writhing. Moving. A constant heat sickness - What did Sarif see in him that was so  _ perfect _ except his DNA? His ability to survive, adapt? His brows push together in confusion.

 

= * =

 

Adam is quiet. Sarif was- almost- hoping for a response. Answer me. Isn't that it? Did I do good?   
  
He took his hand. No resistance. David could have sighed.   
  
That he could touch him and he didn't vanish or turn away or turn on him. Resist. Rebel. There was still time for that, though.   
  
Sarif's brow wrinkles slightly.    
  
He brings both hands to Adam's, letting a few seconds pass wordlessly between them. You've come this far, David. Don't stop.   
  
He looks up at Adam to check for any indication that he was- taking the right turn through the fog.    
  
He looks back down quickly at their hands.    
  
"At the time I--! Wasn't...considering....you." He grimaces. He  _ hated _ the way that sounded. Hated sounding like the villain in any story.   
  
"I was overwhelmed- I... I really thought you'd. Like it. Adam."    
  
His hand squeezes and he drags his palm along the top until he could take Adam's wrist, contemplative. It was so beautiful.   
  
"I thought- how could anyone not believe in this? The pinnacle. What I've been working for and hoping for my whole life."    
  
He tries to turn Adam's arm upside down. Splay his own natural hand in his.   
  
"I've lost family to this, Adam. There's a lot I've had to put aside to-.. to chase what you represent. Do ya understand? I--"    
  
A quick look to the floor and furrowed brows. "I'm sorry, son. Even now, I'd be lyin' to you if I said I wouldn't do it all over again."   
  
He feels his heart threaten to choke him and his grip on Adam loosens as he moves to let him go. He can't look at him. He hates you, David.

 

= * =  
  


Adam can.    
feel himself…   
hm.   
  
he watches with wary eyes as David takes his hand and he hates the way that comforts him. he hates the way that touch eases the once-mounting tension from his synthetic joints - as if they could have ever really held it.    
  
the ice in his belly starts to bleed, something warm. warmer. a second hand joins and his shoulders slack under the gentle touch. he catches the blur of David’s head lifting to look at him and dropping; Adam decides to lift his own to watch him. Wants to. Needs to.    
  
...his chest tightens at David admitting that he hadn’t been thinking of him. Adam pulls in a shaky breath and he can feel some sort of knot in his chest unwind. slack. the threat no longer tangled, painful and pulling. threatening to tear. pop. sinews. heart strings.    
overwhelmed.    
he knew that.    
  
it couldn’t have been easy holding someone’s life in your hands.   
  
he remembers being a cop.   
remembers holding guns at heads and hearts.   
stomachs and sadness.    
body bags or body searches.   
  
it was difficult to figure fates out and to not be selfish in the process. Adam tilts his head again at Sarif squeezing his augged palm. watches the way the material seems to smooth under his calming touch. to his wrist. all David. all warmth. he looks up into the older man’s face and he can    
see it. now.   
  
“I understand,” he says once the silence has hung thick between them for a short while - and he. trusts that David is being honest. That he’d do it all over again. There’s still something that Adam has to work though, still something bothering him. But he can’t exactly figure it out; so he lets it go. unconsciously leaning into the touch and grabbing at it when it threatens to disappear.

his hands wrap around David’s closest arm and tug him back gently, fingers gently creeping down to nestle in the crook of his elbow, giving a gentle squeeze. His eyes are dull, but there’s something  _ living _ in them.   
  
“...Do you trust me with this?”    
  
His eyes flicker to his arm, to their burning empire, to him again.

 

= * =

Sarif felt. A little foolish for all his talking. Something foreign. Usually talking was what he did best.   
  
But- Adam's energy drifts slowly and settles around them and the near-silent hum of his prosthetics is gentle. Less panicked.   
  
He swallows, waits. Adam doesn't say anything at first and his thoughts begin to needle.   
  
Even the 'I understand,' isn't enough to convince him.   
  
But the- gingerly insistent touch to his arm is. Enough.   
  
And the tension he'd felt being stacked little by little started to clatter to the floor- like metal coins stacked hazardously. They toppled easily at the tug.   
  
He can't resist- closing the distance quietly to slide his arms around Adam's waist- His forehead taps into his shoulder as he sighs. He almost found himself saying 'thank you.' It was like a being forgiven.   
  
David didn't know he'd wanted to be forgiven. Though he'd later appreciate that it wasn't so explicit. He might have died of shame.   
  
He makes a small sound, turning his head to the side and hugging him a little tighter.    
  
"I do. I trust you, Adam."    
  
He feels the familiar hot pressure under his ears whenever he said something he wasn't so used to saying.    
  
"I won't lie to you." He rumbles a little quieter, brows furrowing as he squeezes him. And he feels wrong to let go; Hopes Adam doesn't send him off.   
  
He could have cried. Full to bursting. Though he doesn't let himself. Or let go.   
  
"More than anyone, I need you-.. with me."   
  
I'm scared.

= * =

the room has settled.    
repose.   
less like the fires outside and more like a place of ease. of peace. Sarif turns into his touch and with only a moment of hesitation, turns further into the touch.   
  
the apartment is still, quiet. with only a soft whine to fill her, mechanical in nature. everything is dark - shadows dancing across the walls with all the movement outside.   
  
he wraps his arms around Adam and Adam wraps his arms around him back. one slides across the top of his shoulders and tugs him close, presses his head to the top of Sarif’s and pulls him something trembling. something exhausted.    
  
Adam had to face the madness, shortly.   
he had to charge ahead of Sarif and skirt into the blaze. through the char and the ash and the aching hearts of people turned against everything he is. they’ll look upon him in disgust.    
  
but the stars in Sarif’s eyes earlier as he spoke…   
there’s the weight of an entire world in his hands.    
and he only needed one to tend to.    
and he trusts me, with it.    
  
Sarif tightens his arms and Adam thinks his night sky is expanding, thinks that maybe now the stars will span far further than he can count. David promises that he won’t lie to him and Adam brings a hand up to cradle his cheek, to press a small, loving kiss to the side of his temple.    
  
something blooms in his chest. warm. warm. he thinks maybe he could get lost to this, in this. and for some reason, the idea of it puts him at ease. that maybe he won’t have to keep so tense, maybe he won’t have to pour over every word that Sarif says, and question the integrity of it.   
Adam doesn’t want to be alone.   
  
“Be safe,” he murmurs soft, and low, “I need you to come back home.”    
  
I know you’re scared.   
...But I’m right here.

= * =  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and the comments! ;v; much appreciated!


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